


Just Existing

by _jamjar (phizzle)



Category: Lost, Sniper 470
Genre: Dream Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-16
Updated: 2004-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-07 08:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/_jamjar





	Just Existing

His eyes take in the screen, lost in concentration. "Shields Raised," he reads. "Incoming lazer bolts."

He closes his eyes, the slight shaking of his limbs drowned by the shaking of the pod, of the whole asteroid. Every time this happens, he remembers his training, in that camp in the Highlands. Tramping round the courses with Abercrombie, talking about Julie and the latest prank Thomas and Taggart had pulled.

And every time the pod shakes, he thinks, _Is this it? Is this the moment I die?_

Sometimes, he wonders if this was what Abercrombie thought, in his own last moments. All he has are moments, stretching to days and weeks and months, and all there is to do is to dream and just exist in the cold and the heat.

His dreams have been odder lately. Since that ... thing, that .... Something. He frowns, trying to remember, but then just shakes himself and makes his report. _No damage. Estimated time to re-engagement ... seventy-four hours. Over._

He is told, as ever, to _await orders_, and then ... then. Something. He has another seventy-four hours in which to exist, before he can engage again.

And so he does. Exist.

~

_He didn't know where he was. He had never been anywhere like this. It was green, somehow, and the lights were bright, not the bright of the sun blazing in on him as he slept, but ... maybe almost too hot. He looked around._

_There was someone here, and as he looked, it seemed he wasn't himself ... he walked towards this man, this man he had never seen, and put his hand on his shoulder. "Charlie..." he murmured._

_The man turned, sandy hair lifting a little in the breeze. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Thought I'd lost you," he said, frowning, as if he wasn't sure it was him saying the words. He was pulled into a tight hug, and melted into it. Thought he hadn't had this in far too long, too long to count. Compact bricks of something building up a wall and it was smashed by Charlie as he held him. Held him close._

_"Thought I'd lost you," he repeated. "Don't know what I'm doing here, who I'm s'posed to be any more ... don't know where Charlie went. Don't know who I am, now..." He sighed. "Been so lost without you."_

_He nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Speaking around something, a lump in his throat perhaps, or maybe a knot in his stomach ... it was too hot ... "Oh, Charlie. Who am I? Who was I going to be? I have no idea any more. I just ... am."_

_Charlie was holding him tighter, closer, kissing his hair, trying hard to reach him. "I know," he whispered. "I know."_

_"I'm so lost," he muttered. "Just so lost."_

_"I'll find you," Charlie breathed, kissing his hair, his jaw, his cheek, reaching for his lips. He let himself be kissed, knowing he needed it, knowing he needed something, wanted so badly to be found. Too hot here ... far too hot ..._

_Charlie grunted, pulling him down. The sand was soft, but it burned, and he shifted against it restlessly, spinning for a moment it seemed, but Charlie pulled him back, pulled him down, kissing his neck, his collarbone, his chest. He lay back and let it happen, let Charlie need him as he needed Charlie. Stubble sratched against the soft skin of his stomach, and he shivered, and suddenly the sand froze, and all around him froze, except Charlie, Charlie who burned like coals, who slipped down his body, licking, sucking, making him gasp in the cold and the heat, the unbearable heat of Charlie. He shivered, licking his lips, and they felt cold, so cold, and then a hot tongue was around him, a hot, warm, achingly warm and soft mouth was on him, over him, lapping at him, making him arch and groan, half shivering, half needing. So cold, and he shook, but oh, so hot and warm and wet and good, and Charlie was sucking, sucking, and he was dying of the heat, he must be dying, he felt as though his muscles would disintigrate under the heat, maybe his heart would just burst in his chest it was beating so hard, and so fast, and Charlie, Charlie was so hot, his mouth, oh and his hands, his hands were everywhere, tracing burning trails on his chest, on his stomach, on his thighs, rubbing, friction, almost in lines, and he arched and he gasped and his heart raced faster, and Charlie sucked harder and moaned against him, and he felt he might burst -- yes, he felt, and he had almost forgotten how to feel in the rush to just be, to just exist, and somewhere he knew there was a reason he had stopped feeling, and he didn't look at it, he just knew it was there, and oh, Charlie, oh Charlie, oh Charlie..._

_Too hot, too hot but burning cold, sucking too hard, too fast, his heart, gallopracingbursting, those hands, those lines of heat, of unbearable hot heat, too hot, but so cold, icy flame licking--_

His eyes snapped open, and he was hit, full-body, with cold. The asteroid had turned as he slept. Solar panels were down.

He looked at his chest, the straps holding him to the bed still digging in, and when he took them off, he examined the deep red lines almost impassively. Shaking violently with the cold, he quickly bundled himself into his thermal coat, sighing in frustration as he moved and felt the warmth in his pants. He hadn't done that since he was a kid.

He had already forgotten the dream when his new orders came.


End file.
